


Hermitcraft Song Fics

by a_very_smol_bean



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: AAaaaAaaAAAAaaaA, Angst, Hermitcraft - Freeform, I Wrote This Instead Of Being Productive, Multi, Oh lord here we go, The Author Regrets Everything, did i mention there was angst, i guess, it's legit just grumbo, on slight hiatus at the moment, there's nothing here so far
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24614740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_very_smol_bean/pseuds/a_very_smol_bean
Summary: Angst/Fluff fics from the Hermitcraft Fandom. Mostly Grumbo-central.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 96





	1. Intro to the Series

Hey guys, welcome to my hermitcraft fics collection. The works start on the next page so if you don't want to read this just go there.  
This is my first post so I'm still learning how the interface works, forgive me if I mess something up :(

Anyways, I frequently run out of ideas so I just might take suggestions from comments if I'm desperate enough. Something I will never write is smut though. I'm not good at it and it's uncomfortable for me to write soooooo  
sorry if I disappointed some people, that's just the way it is :)

Also, critique is welcome as long as it's not rude

Enough about me, I hope you enjoy my collection of random stories. Happy reading!

god, that was cringy. sorry lol.


	2. Lovely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grian's POV  
> Set in Hermitcraft S7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to Army_4ever for motivating me enough to write and post this story, I don't think I would have had the courage to do so without them

I’m standing at the top of my base. The prismarine spire I’m leaning against glints in the sunlight. Below me, the pathway into my castle stretches out into the forest and towards the other bases dotted around the server. The air around me is warm, and there’s a soft wind blowing east. It ruffles my hair slightly as I watch the sun set.

_It’s so peaceful up here._

The cloudless sky turns a brilliant shade of yellow and orange as the sun touches the hills. I look towards Mumbo’s base. He’s probably rummaging around his storage system trying to find redstone or diamonds. The wrench-like structures surrounding his base reflect light everywhere. They used to look tall and foreboding to me, but now they seem beautiful. Everything seems beautiful. Even Iskall’s half-finished tree looks stunning during the sunset. I spot Scar’s big hole in the distance, something I hadn’t been able to see from inside my base. God, you can see for miles when you’re up here.

_I’m all alone._

I take a step closer to the edge of the spire. Normally I would be scared of being up so high, elytra or not, but the fear I should be feeling is replaced by a strange sense of calm. Looking down, I see no mobs spawning yet. Must be too early for them. The only sounds I hear are parrots chirping far below. _Pesky birds_ , I think. A smile forms on my face, and I begin to laugh. Not the sort of maniacal cackle that Iskall does or Mumbo’s weird shriek, but a soft chuckle that resonates in my chest. Down there with my fragile heart. A heart that breaks under even the slightest of prodding or poking.

_Like it’s made of glass._

My head is clear. Much clearer than it usually is. On any other day I’d be thinking about my next project or my dwindling resources while going through the same routine I do every evening. Days go by like that, hiding away in a mine or knee deep in a build I know will take weeks to finish. Maybe another hermit might visit, but it’s rare. Usually I’m the one bothering them. I guess I have been a bit absent lately, what with the back walls to my castle needing detail and all, but the other hermits haven’t contacted me at all. They’re probably glad for some peace and quiet. I do have one last thing to do today, though.

_The one thing that might finally make me useful._

For a split second, I’m torn. If I do this, will they forgive me? I suppose it won’t matter. I won’t be here to listen to them lecture me, anyways. Nothing matters now. It’s just me and the sun. I can’t recall a single day from the past month where I was as happy as I am standing up here. Before, it felt like days were restarting. I didn’t talk, didn’t sing, didn’t even step out of my castle other than to gather resources every week. I barely ate, I just didn’t have time for it. My castle had to be finished. I was obsessed. Looking back, I wish I had done things differently, but that can’t be helped.

_Looking back, I wish I was a lot of things that I couldn't have been._

The sky turned a deep red colour. It happened in a split second, the fade from orange subtle but noticeable. Red, my favourite colour. The colour of my shirt. The colour of Mumbo’s tie. The colour of my blood. That’s a bit morbid, isn’t it? Never mind. Red has always been and always will be the best colour out there. I sigh. Mumbo’s tie… I’m thinking about him again. Mumbo, Iskall and Scar. Out of all the hermits, these three people. My immediate neighbours. The ones that I chose to think about even when I saw people only as a way to get by. I try so hard to please them, Mumbo especially. The days we spent together were some of the best. I hope he isn’t going to be upset with me.

_When I’m gone, anyways._

Finally, I feel like I belong. Up on this tower, ready to step off and fall forever. Up here with the breeze in my hair and the sunset in front of me. Never have I felt more at home than now. I lift my arms from my sides and outwards to my left and right. It’s so pretty. I pick my foot up off the ledge and let it hover over the lip of the tower. There’s no panic attack, no sudden rush of adrenaline. Just the wind. And the sun. I feel myself leaning forward. There’s no going back now. Mumbo, Iskall, Scar… I’m so sorry. This is where I was meant to be. Up here, in my final few moments, under the beautiful red sky. No elytra to save me this time.

As I fall, I look up at the sky. I can see stars beginning to show. The red is slowly fading to black and white pinpricks dot the heavens like droplets of water. A tear escapes my eye. Just a single tear. I stare at the beauty above me as the ground gets ever closer. It looks so calm up there. I smile again as I watch. It’s only fitting that the last thing I see is this.

_Isn’t it lovely…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could've just ended the chapter with [BdoubleO100 went to bed] but eHhHhh


	3. Today Has Been Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by PsychoJellyfish  
> Grian's POV  
> Set in S7 (with a few exceptions)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk why I keep doing Grian. I guess he's the cinnamon roll of the server, and everyone knows good angst comes from the cinnamon roll, right? idk again  
> also sorry PsychoJellyfish if this wasn't exactly what you envisioned but I hope that I got close enough :)

“Hey, Grian.” There’s a knock at my door. 

I don’t get up to answer it.

“Grian.” Another knock. Then a different voice. 

“Come on out, Grian. You’ve been in there for too long.”

More knocking. Then some hushed voices.

“Are you sure he’s in there?”

“Yeah, there’s nowhere else he could be.”

“Grian?” Again, knocking. 

“Ugh, this is pointless. He’s not going to come out.”

“We have to try. He’s not going to come out on his own, we already tried waiting.” A pause. “Grian, you should come outside. The leaves on all the trees have started growing again. It’s really pretty, especially the Omega-Tree.”

I don’t respond.

“Dude, he’s not going to open the door. We should go.”

“But we have to try! I’m here for you, Grian, whenever you decide to join us, okay?”

Footsteps. They’ve gone.

I don’t move. What’s the point? It’s not like I’d be of any use to them anyways.

How long has it been since I was outside? I lost track of time. It feels like winter was yesterday, but I wouldn’t know. The windows in my Hobbit-Hole have been covered up with blinds. I can’t see outside, and no one can see in. Only a small amount of light is able to filter through. It’s just enough for me to be able to see my way if I were to walk around, but then again, I don’t. I’ve been lying in my bed forever. I’m not even under the covers. Just on top. Not bothering to do anything except breathe and blink. 

The Hobbit-Hole is a mess. Items on the floor, red shirts and cooked cod strewn everywhere. I don’t know what it smells like, I’d gotten used to it a while ago, but if I had to guess it probably stank. No one’s come to complain about it though. All the hermits talk to me about is “oh you should come out” and “it’s not healthy to stay in there” but frankly I couldn’t care less. I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to speak to anyone. I don’t want to be here. There is nothing interesting to do or see anymore. It’s all just a bunch of mediocre-ness.

I sigh. With nothing else to do, I close my eyes. 

* * *

_It’s summertime. My favourite season. I’m sitting on a bench in a flower meadow. There are kids playing in the field. I’m not with them though._

_A melon rolls to a stop underneath my feet. I look down at it, wondering who it belongs to. I don’t have to think about it long, though, because a boy comes running up to my bench. He looks at me for a second before speaking._

_“E-excuse me, may I have that ball back?” He stutters. My eyebrows furrow a bit. He doesn’t seem like the kind of boy to be shy. He has a friendly face and black eyes, plus a stronger jaw than most kids I know. He must be a good few inches taller than me, too. I meet his gaze. His eyes, they're not hard and cold. They’re soft and sparkly. I like them._

_“Um, hello..?” I’m snapped out of my thoughts when he asks again. I realize that I must have been staring. He’s now looking at me weirdly. I should probably say something in return._

_“Sure.” I kick the “ball” to him gently. He bends down to pick it up. I study his hair. It’s black, just like his eyes. It’s also very fluffy. I don’t get to observe more because he straightens back up, but instead of rushing back to continue his game he just stands there._

_“What’s your name?” He asks. I’m taken aback by his question. No one ever asks me my name. I wonder if I should answer. Maybe he’s just going to make fun of me, but he doesn’t seem that confident. I decide to give it a go._

_“Grian.” The boy’s eyebrows go up a little. A flicker of recognition passes through his face._

_“Grian? Aren’t you the one in 4th grade who can draw really well?” I’m surprised that he knows me. He doesn’t look my age. Then I remember that I entered that art contest not long ago and won first. That’s probably where he got my name from._

_“Yeah.” I say. I’m not one for conversation, it’s not really my field of expertise. I usually reply with one-word answers until whoever’s talking to me gets bored and leaves. The thing is, I’m genuinely interested by the boy in front of me now. I don’t want him to leave, so I continue the conversation with “What’s your name?”_

_“U-uh, Mumbo. My name’s Mumbo Jumbo, but I guess you can just call me Mumbo. That’s what my friends call me, anyways.” He replies. I recognize that name._

_“Mumbo Jumbo as in the math genius?” I ask. I remember listening in on a conversation a pair of fifth graders had, and I heard them mention something about a kid in 3rd grade who won multiple awards for being smart or something._

_“Actually, it’s programming I like, but you could say that.” Mumbo smiles. I wouldn’t have thought that he was a 3rd grader. He looked younger. That aside, I could see him being a prodigy. He has that kind of “I’m smarter than you” look._

_Mumbo fidgets a little. I realize that I’ve let the silence drag out a bit too long and it’s become awkward. I don’t know what to say though. Again, I’m not good at talking to people._

_“Mumbo! Get back over here, we’re getting tired of waiting!” Someone screams from the field, breaking the stillness between us. “Sorry, Iskall! I’m coming now!” Mumbo yells back, and turns to leave. I don’t want him to go. Then he stops abruptly and turns back around to face me once more. “Hey, do you want to join?”_

_I’m surprised about his request. I’m always the last one to be chosen for teams, even though I play fairly well. I want to accept his request, then I remember something._

_“I can’t. My dad wants me to stay on this bench so that I don’t get lost.” I say._

_“Oh come on. It’ll be fun.” Mumbo smirks._

_I shrug. “Even if I do come, I don’t think you’ll like me very much.”_

_Mumbo doesn’t seem bothered by my statement. “We’ll see about that.” He says._

_“MUMBO!” Another shout from the field. Mumbo holds out his hand. “Come on.” I hesitate, then take it. We both start towards the field, Mumbo pulling me through the flowers with a light jog._

* * *

“Grian.”

I’m awoken from my nap by another voice from my door. I can’t recognize it right away. They all start to sound the same after a while. The light from the blinds is dimmer, more orange. The sun must be setting.

“Grian, I know you can hear me. You have to come out sometime soon. We’re all really worried.” It’s Stress, I think. I don’t answer though. Like usual.

“Seriously, Grian! I know you must be going through a lot, but we can help you! Ren and Scar came by earlier so you’ve probably heard this today already but please, come out! It’s been weeks. Weeks. You know that we can’t force our way in, so please be reasonable! We’re seriously debating on whether to try and convince Xisuma to use his admin privileges again to get inside. Even Iskall’s out and about. And, Professor Beak misses you.” 

I don’t even blink. I’ve heard it all before.

“Look, I know it’s hard. It affected all of us too. We were all upset when he left, but this is completely absurd! You have to accept that he’s not coming back. At this rate, you’re going to die in there!”

That doesn’t even sound to bad at this point. 

There’s a loud bang from the door. It sounds like Stress punched it. It doesn’t make me flinch, though. I already know nothing can get in. The commands I hacked into keep anything from breaking blocks near and at my Hobbit-Hole. In the beginning, I felt a little bad for shutting everyone out, but now I don’t even feel sad. Only numb.

I should probably get up to eat, but I don’t want to. The food I have has started to taste more and more bland. I’m also dehydrated, but I don’t care. 

I just want to close my eyes and forget.   
  


* * *

_We arrive at the beach in the late afternoon. I lay down some carpet blocks as a makeshift towel on the sand. Mumbo pops out some cyan wool from his inventory and does the same. I sit down facing out into the ocean. The light breeze blows both our carpets around a bit._

_“Beautiful, isn’t it?”_

_I reply without breaking my gaze from the horizon. “Yeah. It could stretch out forever, for all we know. This world is infinite, so there’s a possible likelihood that it just never stops. Ever think about that?”_

_“All the time.” Mumbo says. The wind picks up a bit and his tie flutters around, getting into his face. “I- I struggle to wrap my mind around it sometimes.”_

_We sit in silence for a minute, both of us enjoying the scent of the salty water and the sound of the waves. I take a moment to look at him. His hair is neatly gelled, a far cry from the mess it was when we were children but still just as black. His suit and tie are ironed, like they always are. I swear, that man probably spends hours just smoothing out wrinkles. It is his favourite outfit, after all. His eyes still hold that playful sparkle from years ago, and his moustached smile will light up any room. I love it when he smiles. Especially when I make him do it. When he does, I’d go as far as to say that he looks kind of cute._

_I hadn’t noticed that I was staring again. Mumbo’s turned to face me. He raises one eyebrow at my piercing gaze. “Why do you do that?”_

_“Huh?”_

_“The- the staring thing. I’ve seen you do it to other people before, especially me. Why?”_

_“Oh, I dunno.” I search for an answer. “I’ve never really thought about it, it just happens. I, uh, it’s not like a rude sort of thing, it’s… Yeah, I really don’t know.”_

_Mumbo shrugs. “I’m not bothered by it, anyways. It’s kind of funny, to be honest. Like that one time you hit a tree while flying because you were staring at Iskall?”_

_“Hey, that’s not fair!” I punch him lightly on the arm. I’d been so busy watching Iskall building that I flew too low and didn’t notice the giant jungle tree right in front of me. Mumbo fetched me some healing potions and helped me gather all my stuff, but not before laughing for a solid few minutes._

_Mumbo sighs. “You’re so different from back when we first met. You used to be so quiet, but now you’re the life of the server. What changed?”_

_“I met you.” I reply._

_He smiles. I spread my legs out in front of me and he lays his head in my lap. We settle back into watching the sun slowly start to dip towards the sea. It was another ten minutes before Mumbo broke the silence again. “Hey, Grian?”_

_“Yeah, what’s up?” I look down to face him._

_“Ever think about running? Not like running away from something, but running into the unloaded chunks forever? We could keep travelling for millions of blocks, constantly discovering new biomes and structures left un-looted.” He meets my eyes. “It would be just us. No one else.”_

_I think about it before responding. “Mumbo, I’d love to go with you, but there’s still so much to do here. I have to finish my castle and you have your base too. We can’t abandon this, especially because of the other hermits. Maybe one day, but not anytime soon. Okay?”_

_Mumbo looks away. “Okay.” I wonder if I’ve upset him. I hope he understands my reasons for not agreeing._

_The sun has started to set for real now. Mumbo stands up and picks his carpet up off the sand. “Grian, it’ll be dark soon. We should probably get going. Drowned will be able to come out in a bit, and I bet at least one of us has a few phantoms waiting to chomp on our limbs.”_

_“What? But we only just got here.”_

_“Yeah, but to be fair we flew over a little late. We should probably get going back.” He equips his elytra and prepares to fly off. “Grian, are you coming?”_

_I sit on the sand, unmoving._

_“Grian?”_

* * *

“Grian. Come on, let’s go.”

My eyes bolt open. There’s light filtering through my curtains. It seems too bright to be sunset and too early to be noon. Sunrise, maybe. Nothing’s changed since the last hundred times I’ve looked at it, except for the man sitting on my bed next to me. 

He’s wearing a black suit and a red tie. Ironed, just like the last time I saw him. Hair neatly gelled to his head. It is, without a doubt, him.

I’m in shock. I don’t know what to say.

“Come on, sleepyhead.” Mumbo nudges me. “What, is there something on my face? Did my moustache sprout wings and fly away? Or is it that stare-ey thing you do?”

“You- you- but you…” I finally manage to get out. It’s strange to hear myself speak.

“Hey, stuttering is my thing.” He stands up from my bed. “Get up, we should go now if we want to get a head start.”

I sit up for the first time in days. My unused muscles ache a bit, but I don’t notice. Or care, for that matter. “Where are we going?” I ask.

“Into the horizon, of course.” Mumbo replies. “Like I always talked about. You, me, forever.”

“But how did you get past the commands?” I’m confused. Xisuma tried once and nearly terminated the server. Nothing could get through unless I wanted it to.

“Don't worry about it. Let’s go.” He holds out his hand, and for a moment he’s that shy 3rd grader I met on the flower field. I take it, without hesitation this time. He pulls me off the bed and onto my feet. “How was your day?” He asks.

I’m silent for a few seconds, and then I smile like I never have before. I realize now I’m finally ready to go with him and always have been. With a few typed commands I destroy the barrier around my starter house. It’s time to leave everything behind. I reply to him in my usual, cheerful voice. 

“Today has been okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this can be interpreted one of two ways. One, Mumbo left for that trip without Grian but got guilty and returned for him. Two, Mumbo died sometime along the line and Grian just up and died of starvation and/or dehydration and hallucinated that entire last part. either way, it's angst so idk why anyone would complain ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> and let's be honest, we all knew it was mumbo as soon as we read about the melon ball boy


	4. Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mumbo and Iskall decide to meet up for dinner one day, but Iskall discovers a secret Mumbo wants no one to know...  
> Set in S7  
> Iskall's POV  
> A quick disclaimer: I don't ship the real people, just their Minecraft personas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry I've been away for so long, I ran into some issues and I'm also working on a longer oneshot at the moment, but here's another fic for you :)

A rush of wind alerted Iskall to Mumbo’s arrival. The man landed inside the Omega Tree’s trunk, elytra wings spread out wide to try and slow him down. He hit the ground hard, causing him to stumble and almost fall face first into the grass at his feet. Iskall let out a laugh at the sight. He was used to Mumbo being clumsy, but it never failed to amuse him. 

“Fly much?” He called. Mumbo had touched down a good twenty blocks away, so Iskall would have to shout if Mumbo was to hear him. Mumbo turned towards him and made an exasperated hand wave. He took a moment to catch his breath and then walked the distance to where Iskall was standing. 

“It’s been a very busy day, man,” He said, “And it’s not like you could do any better.”

“Oh, shut up. That landing-- or should I say, plummet-- was absolute gold.” Iskall smiled his signature cheeky grin and plopped down a crafting table out of his inventory. He laid out mushrooms, cooked rabbit and potatoes on top before turning to Mumbo. “Got those carrots I asked for?”

Mumbo’s eyebrows raised a bit before he realised what Iskall was talking about. “Oh, yeah, I got them right here. Give me a moment.” Iskall could only guess at how disorganized the guy’s inventory was. He was good at redstone sorting systems, but that’s about where his organization expertise stopped. He had more chests and shulker boxes lying haphazardly around his base than most of the other hermits, though he continued to claim that he knew where everything was. Iskall would be damned if Mumbo could find the item he needed in under 30 seconds. After a minute of digging, Mumbo pulled two carrots and a bowl from the depths of his inventory. “Here.” 

Iskall placed the items into the crafting grid and seconds later picked up two bowls of fresh rabbit stew. He handed one to Mumbo and kept the other. “Let’s fly up to the branches of my tree. We have a better view there.” He paused briefly before launching himself into the air with the help of a few rockets. Mumbo followed suit, and they both landed safely on the tip of one gigantic branch. Iskall sat himself down so that his legs dangled over the edge of the branch. Mumbo chose to sit cross-legged next to him. 

“So, what’s been going on with you lately?” Iskall asked, taking a spoonful of the rich stew to his mouth. The two hermits hadn’t really seen each other lately, though their bases were practically right next to each other. Iskall had reached out the other day to try and find a time where he and Mumbo were both free. They’d settled for dinner at Iskall’s tree.

“Nothing much.” Mumbo responded. “I’ve got a lot done on my base and the industrial district. I must say, that charrot on top really does add to the base. I think I might keep it.” This made Iskall snort. “What about you?”

The bearded man sighed. “I’ve progressed a lot on my tree, got the branches all filled in, but nothing much aside from that. I guess I have a pretty boring life after all.” He smiled, suddenly remembering the major event from the past week. “Oh, and congrats on losing the mayoral race. 0 votes? That must be your personal best!”

Mumbo swatted Iskall in the arm. “Hey, Stress lost too! I bet she wasn’t very happy with you after that.” 

“Yeah, but at least she was voted for! Not even your campaign manager gave you a vote.” 

“Oh, shut up, we both know Grian’s a little gremlin. This mayor thing was his idea in the first place.” 

“Fair point. Speaking of Grian, you seen him around lately?”

Mumbo smiled as if remembering a funny joke. “I did, actually. He and Scar came by my hobbit hole earlier today. Apparently Ren took them out for drinks or something like that, so they were both wasted beyond belief. They started singing ‘99 bottles of beer’ and I had to kick them out around 50.” 

“You let them get to 50!?”

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad. They skipped everything in the 70s.” 

Both men lapsed into silence for an awkward moment. Iskall noticed that Mumbo was fidgeting with his hands, a habit he had developed back when Iskall first started to hang out with him. 

Mumbo ate another spoonful of the thick soup. “Great stew, by the way.”

“Thanks.” Iskall said. “Got the rabbit from Stress. She threw it at me at some point.”

Mumbo laughed and released the tension in his hands. It seems he was glad for the change of subject. Iskall wondered what made him so nervous. He decided to wait it out and see if it came up again. “Have you seen the other hermits’ builds? They’re looking gorgeous.”

“I have! I drop by Grian’s a lot, I like seeing the progress he’s made. At this rate his mansion is going to take up half the server.” Mumbo said. Iskall couldn’t argue with his assessment. That thing was like, real huge. 

“I’ve seen it a few times in the past few days.” He responded. “I work up here a lot, so I catch glimpses of it every once in a while. You get quite the sights building this high.”

“I bet. How many times have you fallen?”

“Oh, shush. You see the death messages just like any other normal person, and I’m sure you know how to count.”

“Hah, well you’ll be glad to know that I haven’t fallen from my base once. Not once.”

Iskall feigned a surprised look. “You wizard!”

“Not going to lie, building is actually quite fun. I’ve taken quite an interest in it.”

“Really? Wasn’t redstone your thing? I thought Grian was the one who did the building stuff and you put in the machinery to make it fly or something.”

“Well, yeah…” Mumbo’s speech faltered. This was strange. Mumbo was usually the more talkative one, and it was rare for him to run out of responses. Iskall looked away from his bowl to make eye contact with him, but found that Mumbo was avoiding his gaze. The younger was staring intensely at a leaf. Iskall was puzzled. Could he have overstepped a boundary with his comment? He looked down at Mumbo’s hands. He was fidgeting. Iskall decided to change the subject again.

“How’s your piglin trading hall coming along?”

“Oh, really well! The new blackstone is really amping up the coolness of my builds.”

“Coolness? Are you inventing new words again?”

“That was already a word!” 

They resumed bickering about the english language, an argument originating from an end-busting trip they took together a while ago. Iskall tried to impersonate a British accent, which caused Mumbo to recall one of the few words he learned in Swedish. They laughed about American accents in between spoonfuls of food. By the end of it, they both sounded like angry Not-Quite-Texans-or-Australians arguing with mouths full of water. 

Mumbo wiped tears from his eyes as he recovered from a particularly funny “Pardon me” Iskall had just shouted. “Seriously, Iskall, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in awhile.”

“Me too. We should have dinner together more often.” Iskall missed having these types of conversations with Mumbo. It brought him back to the times during the 5th season where he and Mumbo had been inseparable. Time had eroded their friendship, but they still remained close buddies, even if they were slightly distant. 

“We should, we should. I’ll be sure to send you a message sometime soon.”

“On that note, I’ve noticed you haven’t been sending many chat messages recently. Why is that? You usually have some weird topic like hermit challenges.”

Mumbo blinked fast, as if flustered. “Oh, I-I’ve definitely toned it down a bit. I try to wait until other people text me first. Especially Grian, I’ve texted him a lot. Oh dear, I hope I haven’t been bothering him--” Mumbo stopped abruptly and resumed staring down the leaf. The hand fidgeting was back. 

Iskall was confused. What could be making him so uncomfortable? It wasn’t the jokes, it wasn’t the other hermits’ behavior… could it be something to do with Scar? Or Grian? Grian… Then it dawned on him. Iskall’s eyes widened as he glanced at Mumbo’s face. It was a dark shade of pink like he’d just been called out for something embarrassing. This only further confirmed Iskall’s suspicions.

“You like Grian, don’t you?” 

Mumbo choked and spat out some potato. He turned an even deeper shade of red than before and started stuttering out a response much too fast for Iskall to understand. 

“WhaIdontevenknowhwatyoumeangrianidontlikehimimeanidobutnotthatway--” 

“Whoa, slow down, dude. You’re not making sense.”

Mumbo paused and took a breath then started again, this time slower. “I don’t have a crush on him, if that’s what you mean. Nope, We’re just friends. Friends, that’s it. I’m not trying to be with him! Grian a-and me? Nooooooooo. Definitely not.”

“Mumbo, you aren’t fooling anyone.” Iskall said. 

“Okay, maybe I do. So what? It’s not like it’s bad or anything, it’s just a crush, i-it’ll go away soon. He doesn’t even know about it. I don’t have to tell him if I don’t want to. It shouldn’t be a-a problem, what he doesn’t know w-won’t hurt him. Unless…” Mumbo’s eyes widened. “Do YOU like him?”

“What? No, no, you know I have the hots for Stress.” Iskall replied, slightly shocked at the response he was getting. He hadn’t expected to get this much of an outburst. Mumbo must really be into Grian. Iskall smiled.  _ This will be fun to tease him about, that is, once I get him to calm down, _ He thought. “It’s okay, I won’t tell him.”

Mumbo let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks.” Then his eyes narrowed. “How did you know?”

“It was really obvious. You were constantly fidgeting when we mentioned him and you’re blushing right now.”

Mumbo’s hands flew to his face. “I’m blushing!? Oh my lord…” He hid behind his palms. Iskall’s smile grew wider. Yep, this was definitely going to be fun. Mumbo noticed Iskall staring and decided to comment on it.

“Why are you grinning like that?” He said.

“Like what?” Iskall responded, smile never wavering. 

“Like the mischievous little chump you are.” Mumbo sounded slightly exhausted. “God, I swear if you tell a soul--” 

“Chill, I already told you I wouldn’t. You have my word.”

“Your word isn’t worth much, now is it.”

Iskall put a hand to his mouth in mock surprise. “Mumbo Jumbo, how dare you? I thought we were friends.” This got Mumbo to laugh a bit, so Iskall continued talking. “Seriously, I really won’t, but this is an interesting topic. When did you know?”

He didn’t think it was possible for Mumbo to blush more, yet he did. It took the moustached man a moment, but he finally responded from behind his fingers in a tiny voice. “I knew when he came to me during the 6th season to ask if I could spy for him. I think you were with him, actually. He looked at me like, I dunno, like I was the most important thing in the world. It might have just been me, though. He was only asking for a favour. The way he smiled, ear to ear with his eyes half closed and teeth showing, I found it so… so warm and happy. And then I fell head over heels in love with him. That’s my story.” He said. “I found lots of little ways to see him every now and then, like dropping by his base and initiating him into hermit challenges, but I wonder if he gets annoyed with me for checking in so often. I try to keep myself busy so that I won’t think about it so much. It’s no use, everything I see just makes me remember. His eyes, his laugh, his stupid red sweater that he loves so much-- I don’t want it to get in the way of our friendship, but part of me still hopes that he likes me back.”

Iskall didn’t say anything. This was a lot. Since season 6? Mumbo hid it well. But if he had no trouble hiding it all this time, what caused him to be so nervous now? 

“Why are you telling me now? We always share these things with each other.” He said.

Mumbo put his hands back down into his lap. “Back then I thought it was just a little thing, that it would go away sooner or later. I didn’t tell you because we weren’t communicating as much and I was worried that I pissed you off somehow. Also, while Grian and Scar were over at my hobbit hole, they…” He stopped. Iskall started to get worried. What happened that made Mumbo this uncomfortable? He could think of a number of things that would’ve disturbed the guy, but none of them sounded like something the two pranksters would do. Scar was super kind and Grian knew his limits as a prankster. Still, they were both drunk. Anything could have gone down. Iskall didn’t get to express his concerns before Mumbo began to speak again. 

“They tried to convince me to play ‘spin the bottle’ with them, even though only the three of us were there. I declined and went to organize some chests, but out of the corner of my eye I saw something. G-Grian kissed Scar on the cheek. I pretended not to see. It hurts, Iskall.” The bearded man noticed Mumbo looked like he was about to cry. He put a hand on Mumbo’s back and scooted closer to him, drawing up his legs into a cross and mirroring Mumbo’s position. 

“Hey, man, it’s okay. I feel that too.”

“Really?” Mumbo looked up and searched Iskall’s face for any indication that he was just being kind. “I thought that I was just being super emotional. That’s nice to know, I guess.” 

They both sat there for a while. Iskall thought of all the times he had felt the same way about Stress. Mumbo definitely needed cheering up. He cleared his throat and began talking.

“Hey, you know, what if you  _ did _ tell him? Maybe he does like you back. You should take a chance. Heck, I might even hermit challenge you to do it.”

Mumbo’s smile returned to his face. “Maybe, but not now. I’m too afraid.”

Iskall stood up and collected Mumbo’s now empty bowl of stew. He piled it on top of his and smack-patted Mumbo on the back, which elicited an “oomph” noise from the seated minecrafter. He turned back towards the trunk of the tree so that he could retreat to the comfort of his bed. 

“Well, this was fun. Come over again sometime.” He said, stopping to look back at Mumbo. Their eyes met, and Iskall thought he saw a glint of determination in those black irises. “Good luck on your ‘challenge’. You seriously  _ could _ be his crush. You never know, man.” He added.

Mumbo smiled at him, then turned to watch the evening sky. “Yeah, thanks.”

Iskall walked back towards the center of his base, but before he flew down to the grassy floor he heard Mumbo mutter something quietly out into the breeze.

“I could be your crush.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you want me to make sequel, I feel like that would be fun. Also, I just want to say thanks for the kudos, guys. It means a lot that you enjoyed my stories :>


	5. I love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in S7  
> Mumbo's POV  
> Sequel to "Crush"  
> Disclaimer: I do not ship the real people, just their Minecraft personas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that took so long ;-;

Mumbo sat on the stone lip of his tower base. Redstone dust stained his hands and suit. Behind him, various contraptions lay stacked on top of each other. A torch fell off one. Mumbo paid it no mind. He continued staring at the just now appearing sun. Hours and hours of work, and what did he have to show for it? Absolutely nothing. 

Another torch hit the ground. Slowly, the stack of bricks and dust teetered dangerously to the right, then to the left, but miraculously didn’t fall. The scaffolding scattered everywhere barely kept it from coming down. It was a waste, anyways. The thing didn’t work.

Mumbo stood up. The sun was blinding him, so he turned away. He walked under the redstone mess and back into his base. He’d gotten up almost exactly a day ago, the sun just peeking over the horizon. Filled with excitement, he’d climbed the stone walls of his base and up to the very top, where the outer shell of a golden heart lay. Now that excitement was gone. 24 hours of nothing working had taken its toll on Mumbo. He decided to go lay in bed until he felt better about himself. 

* * *

Mumbo awoke to a Grian in his face. He screamed, rolling out of bed and landing painfully on his arse. The covers tangled up his limbs, so it took him a moment to get his body in working order. When he collected himself he saw that it was just a head perched on two grindstones, placed incredibly close to his bedside. The Grian Yeeter was holding a purple shulker box in its “hands”. Mumbo stood up and walked around the bed to try and open it, but quickly realized that the ceiling was in the way. Grumbling, he tried to pull on the shulker box, but it was stuck. He pulled harder. Still wedged in tightly. Mumbo put all of his weight into the final pull, putting a leg in the bottom grindstone to help. The shulker box came loose without warning, making Mumbo crash into the wall behind him. He fell, taking the box with him. 

“Good god.” He grumbled from the floor. “I give up.”

Footsteps from above. Mumbo couldn’t see around the box (which had fallen on his lap, effectively trapping him against the wall because it was so heavy) so he could only listen to the swoosh of elytra wings as the visitor landed inside. 

“Mumbo?” Scar said in his instantly recognisable deep voice.

“Over here!” Mumbo called. The sound of footsteps grew nearer. “I’m kind of stuck.” 

“Oh! There you are. Here, let me help you.” The mayor struggled to lift the shulker box off Mumbo. “Good lord, what’s in this thing? It’s so heavy!” He finally freed the captive man, dropping the shulker box on the floor. Mumbo used the bed to help himself up.

“Thanks.” He said. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“No problem.” Scar replied. “I heard a scream so I thought I would come investigate.”

Mumbo blushed, remembering how he woke up. Even Ren must have heard that yell. “Yeah, that was me. Sorry.”

Scar chuckled lightly. “It’s okay.” He fidgeted with his purple robe. An awkward silence filled the room as both minecrafters ran out of things to say. Mumbo stared at his shoes. He suddenly remembered the events that happened in his base over a week ago and his blush deepened further. The question he was itching to ask Scar burst forward from his lips without his consent. 

“D-do you like… do you l-like Grian?” Mumbo stuttered out. He immediately shut his mouth and covered it with both hands. Scar’s expression changed from casual to flustered as he registered Mumbo’s statement. Mumbo turned a dark beetroot colour and tried to explain what he’d meant, but succeeded only in biting his tongue. “I mean, that’s n-not, I didn’t mean-- ow!”

“Why do you ask that?” Scar asked. He didn’t seem nearly as embarrassed as Mumbo, though his blush betrayed him. The redstoner followed up carefully, both to not cause his throbbing tongue any more pain and to not accidentally anger Scar in any way. _You can never be too careful with someone else’s crush_ , he thought nervously to himself.

“I just… You know, a week ago when you were both drunk… I thought that maybe you might like him?”

“No, no, I really don’t. We were drunk. It was nothing.” Scar looked Mumbo in the eyes, or at least tried to since Mumbo avoided his gaze. “It’s fine, I know you like him.”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah, pretty much everyone knows that you like him. Except Grian, of course.”

Mumbo gaped at Scar. “Y-you mean, all the hermits? How?”

Scar smiled. “We have our sources.”

“Oh god… it was Iskall, wasn’t it?”

“It was, it was. His justification was that he promised not to tell Grian, but you said nothing about the other hermits.”

“If I recall correctly, I told specifically him not to tell _a soul_ \--”

“What’s done is done. They aren’t judging you, anyways.” Scar turned to leave. “I should probably go now. I have a lot of stuff to get done.”

“Okay.” A slightly more subdued Mumbo answered. He was left to ponder this revelation as Scar exited the base. Iskall told the hermits… does that mean another hermit could have told Grian? Does he know?? Oh no… Panicking again, Mumbo tried to calm himself down a bit and formulate a plan. He would invite Grian over… Yes, that’s it. He’ll invite Grian over and find a way to subtly ask him if he knew. Or something like that. Yeah. That’s a nice plan. Hands shaking, Mumbo typed out a message to Grian.

**Mumbo: Hey Grian, wanna come over? I need help with my base :]**

Not even five seconds later a new message popped into the chat.

Grian: Sure what time

**Okay. Here we go.**

* * *

Mumbo sat in front of his base’s broken heart, waiting for Grian. _Funny_ , he thought, _the base is quite like me in a sense. No matter what I do, the heart won’t follow the brain’s commands. It doesn’t function properly, either._

Thunk.

**Grian fell from a high place.**

**Grian: Oops**

**Grian: Mumbo, don’t you dare touch my stuff**

The moustached man smiled. Typical Grian. He turned around to find that Grian’s stuff was scattered barely a block away from him. No doubt the gremlin tried to land behind Mumbo and push him off. What a prankster. 

A small piece of paper close enough to Mumbo flew into his inventory. It was folded very small and appeared to have been ripped in half. Curious, Mumbo opened it. “ _Dear Mumbo, I want to tell y_ ” It read. The rest of the note was torn off. Mumbo debated searching for the other half, but couldn’t reach a conclusion before Grian came gliding in on his spare elytra. Awfully quick, too. Like he was trying to grab something before anybody could see it.

“Hey Mumbo.” He smiled as he scooped up his stuff. “Stupid elytras. I kinda sometimes wish they weren’t a thing, yknow? Anyways, what do you need help with?” His fast talking sparked joy in Mumbo. There was something just so delightful about it.

“Ah, just the heart. It refuses to beat.” Mumbo said. “I saw you talking about the concrete farm during a stream so I figured you could take a look here?”

“I see. I’m not the best at redstone, so don’t expect too much.” Grian turned around to look at the heart behind him. “What’s with all the scaffolding?”

“Oh, that? That’s to keep it up. I can’t figure out the new chains, so…” 

Grian started towards the heart, but stopped and turned to look Mumbo in the eyes. “I- ah, I actually have something to tell you. I was going to wait, but since we’re here now I thought I would.” Mumbo noticed a peculiar thing about Grian in that moment-- Grian was blushing. Now _this_ was rare. 

“What is it, Grian? Did you put more heads in my base?” Mumbo said. Grian, startled, said nothing. A euphoric sense of power coursed through Mumbo as he saw Grian’s red cheeks darken more. Completely forgetting his purpose for bringing the guy here, he pushed it further. “Did you replace my crafting tables with oak planks? I’ve clued into your tricks now, mister.” 

Grian stared at the unusually confident Mumbo. Even the redstoner was surprised at this jibe. He didn’t even stutter once. 

“No, no, Mumbo, it’s not like that.” Grian eventually said. He put his hands up as if to surrender. “I’m not playing a prank on you. It’s just that--” Mumbo heard Grian’s voice catch in his throat. This better be good. He thought about that note that Grian dropped when he died. Could it be connected? Try as he might, he couldn’t shake that glimmer of hope that it was.

Grian took a deep breath.

“I have a crush on you.”

Mumbo’s heart skipped a beat. What? He must have imagined it. There’s no way the popular, handsome man in front of him just confessed to a secret crush, yet here he was. Just standing there. Blushing and looking at the ground. Mumbo shut his eyes, thinking that if he did maybe it would pull him out of some ridiculous fantasy, but when he opened them Grian was still there. Neither of them spoke for a while, Mumbo too shocked to say a word. He studied Grian’s face, trying to work out if this was a prank or trickery, but Grian deftly avoided his prying eyes. 

“Mumbo, I…” Grian said.

When Mumbo replied, his voice was small. “Th-This is a joke, right?” Still in a daze, Mumbo started rattling off everything going on in his head. “You were just trying to make me laugh, right? You’re going to say ‘gotchu’ and take it back, aren’t you? This is just some elaborate joke set up by Iskall because I decided to put my trust in him. You were just trying to make me laugh, that’s all. Right?”

Grian took a step back. “No, Mumbo, nothing has to change, okay? If you want, we can just go back to the way things were. It could be just a joke if you want it to be.” Here his voice cracked and a single tear slipped down his cheek. It was very unlike Grian to cry. Seeing the tear snapped Mumbo out of his frenzied rant. 

“Wait, Grian, you don’t understand--” Mumbo was cut off.

“I’ll just go.” Wiping his eyes, Grian backed up and turned to rocket away. Unknowingly, he hit the supporting leg of a scaffolding block, knocking it over. He was standing directly under the stone heart. Mumbo realized what was about to happen and barely had time to shout out a warning. 

“NO!” He cried, diving at Grian. Above him, the massive heart creaked as the support collapsed under it. Mumbo’s arms wrapped around Grian’s midsection and they tumbled over one another. He landed on his side, but quickly moved to shield Grian. The heart crashed to the ground behind them, sending a huge cloud of dust into the air. Mumbo braced himself for the onslaught of sharp debris. It peppered his back as chunks of stone and gold tumbled past them. He shut his eyes.

* * *

When the noise finally stopped and the dust settled, Mumbo opened his eyes. 

The heart lay shattered in the center of the base. It had fallen through the floor and all the way to Mumbo’s storage room. Dirt and stone was everywhere. The two lay a good ten blocks away from the crater. Mumbo must have accidentally activated his elytra to get this far. He stopped surveying the scene and decided to check Grian for any injuries. 

Grian lay under him, eyes still squeezed shut. He had his arms wrapped around Mumbo’s waist and was squeezing tight enough to break a rib. Mumbo had his arms around Grian’s curly head of hair. He quickly realized how awkward the position was and tried to get up, but Grian was still hugging him. Mumbo’s face felt like it was on fire. What should he say? Nothing could have prepared him for this, he thought. 

Grian popped open one eye and released his death grip on Mumbo. Mumbo sat up quickly, face still burning. Grian did the same.

“Dude…” Grian said. 

“Yeah, I know.” Mumbo let out a chuckle. “Pretty crazy, huh?”

He was stopped from saying more because Grian pulled him into another hug. This one wasn’t so tight, rather soft and warm. He could hear Grian sniffle into his chest.

“Thank you.” His voice was muffled by the bamboo suit Mumbo wore. “I didn’t think you’d do that for me.”

“Of course I would. You’re my friend.”

Grian looked up and met Mumbo’s eyes. “Just friends? That’s alright.”

Mumbo pulled his hand up and stroked Grian’s hair. Something about him gave Mumbo confidence. Maybe it was the need to protect him. Maybe it was the inescapable trap that called itself love. Whatever the reason was, Mumbo didn’t care. All he wanted was to stay in his arms forever. 

“No, Grian. It’s not alright.”

He felt Grian tense. “H-huh?”

Mumbo felt his eyes prick with tears, but they weren’t of anguish this time. “You’re so silly.”

Grian didn’t break eye contact with him. “Mumbo Jumbo, do you love me?” Mumbo could see that playful smirk returning to his face, and the sight filled him with indescribable happiness. He smiled wide enough to fit a banana in his mouth sideways.

“I love you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to put this project on hold. This latest chapter left me feeling really burnt out, so I apologize for the drop in quality you may have noticed. I will still be writing, just not in this compilation. Sorry again, hope you all have a great day :)


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